


Rainstorms and Overthinking

by wickedwitchcraft



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Ciri is an instagator, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Jaskier is a good dad/big brother type, M/M, because i feel that needs a warning, its more likley than you think, just a little angst this time i promise, leeches, leeches are gross, me projecting onto characters again?, they freak me out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwitchcraft/pseuds/wickedwitchcraft
Summary: prompt from amazingmsme on tumblr:Saw your post asking for cute/silly prompts so I’m here to deliver! How about Geralt, Jaskier & Ciri are all on the road & set up camp for the night. Jaskier & Ciri are restless & bored so they start trying to see who can mess with Geralt the most. Things escalate when Jaskier grabs a handful of mud & slings it at his face, causing a mud fight to break out! Hope this works, love your stuff!
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 12
Kudos: 129





	Rainstorms and Overthinking

**Author's Note:**

> i changed it a little from the prompt but like... its cute still. also... angst seems to happen no matter how hard i try i am so sorry. hahahahaha! its like 2;30 am and i am... so tired. all mistakes are mine! no betas here we die like men. 
> 
> *** I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS WORK TO BE REPOSTED ON ANY OTHER SITE OR APP WITHOUT MY PERMISSION ***

“It’s been raining for 3 hours is he ever going to stop?” Ciri whispered, her breath tickling Jaskier’s neck. He’d let her climb onto his back about an hour after the rain started, the mud from the down poor had nearly been swallowing her feet. He gave her legs a gentle squeeze as he squinted through the rain at Geralt’s back.

“ Oh I doubt it. Why should he stop? The muds not bothering him, _he’s_ on a _horse_!” Jaskier yelled through the deluge, flinching when a drop of rain hit him directly in the eye. Ciri moved one of her hands from his shoulder, she wiped at the water above his eyes and then let her hand settle there, shielding his eyes from the rain.

Geralt said nothing, just kept on, Roach walking along the road with ease. Jaskier huffed, and smiled when he felt Ciri do the same, in synch with him.

“Maybe if we annoy him enough, he’ll stop.” She sighed. Jaskier could feel her pulling at the hood of her cloak, no doubt trying to shield her own eyes from the rain as well.

“I’m soaking wet Jaskier. My cloak alone has to weight a million pounds. You can put me down, I’ll be okay.” She patted his shoulder for him to stop and let her down. He had no intention of doing any such thing.

“Nonsense. Look at this mud. It’s nearly up to my knee. If I put you down now, I’ll never see you again. You’ll be swallowed whole and I’d never hear the end of it!” He hiked her up a little on his back, the rain indeed weighing her down, and smiled when he felt her nuzzle closer.

“Thank you.” She said, always so kind and mannered. That had taken some getting used to.

“Let’s just yell at him until he stops.” She said, her hand wiping water out of his eyes again.

“We can try. But I assure you, in the past, no amount of yelling or complain on my part has _ever_ stopped that man from doing anything.” Jaskier sighed, Ciri laughed into his shoulder.

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled.

No reply.

“Geralt don’t be rude he’s talking to you!” Ciri yelled, not as loud as she could, mindful of how close she was to Jaskier’s ear. Jaskier watched Geralt’s head turn minutely to the side, but still he said nothing, and he did not stop. Jaskier patter Ciri’s leg again and took a deep breath.

“Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. Geralt! Geralt! Geralt! Geralt! Geralt! Geraaaaaaaallllttttt!” Jaskier yelled and yelled until his lungs where empty, Ciri snorted into his shoulder. He took another deep breath, fully intending to keep shouting up at the man through the rain when Geralt finally responded.

“There’s a place up ahead. Just stop doing that.” His voice was gruff, and annoyed. Jaskier turned to look at Ciri, her eyes shining in the rain, giving her a triumphant smile.

“Well done.” She said, laughing with him as they followed Geralt and Roach off the path and into the trees.

They walked for maybe ten more minutes, finally coming to a stop near a small indent in the rocks lining the edge of the forest. Jaskier ran to the rocks, sighing happily at the cover and let Ciri slide off his back to her feet. She immediately threw her cloak off, laying it out on the smooth ground to dry, as much as it could. She smiled up at Jaskier as he began pulling his doublet off to do the same. He struggled for a moment, the fabric stuck fast to his skin, Ciri grabbed the end of his sleeve, helping him yank it free, her bubbly laughter filling the air again, echoing off the stone walls behind them.

Geralt slid off Roach and stomped over to them, splashing mud onto Jaskier’s already soaked pants. Jaskier gasped and glared at him.

“Ya know just cuz they’re already drenched in mud doesn’t mean they need you adding more you oaf.” Jaskier grumbled, more to himself than to Geralt. Geralt turned to look at him, moving his head slowly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jaskier hissed, wringing out his doublet and dropping it to the ground next to Ciri’s cloak, the fabric making a sad flopping sound as it hit the ground, clearly still sopping wet. Jaskier sighed and stretched his back.

“Thanks for stopping Geralt. Even if it took you three hours.” Ciri said, Jaskier smiled at her cheerful sarcasm. He watched as she paced the edge of the small cave, not really a cave at all, more of an alcove.

“Hmm.” Was all she got in response.

“Such a way with words.” Jaskier muttered, avoiding Geralt’s eyes but feeling the glare like a dagger in his neck. Then, Jaskier watched, as if the world was moving in slow motion, as Ciri bent down and filled her hand with mud. He pulled his hands to his chest, reflexively, as she turned and threw the mud right at Geralt’s back. He’d been rummaging in his pack, looking for god knows what. The mud hit him between the shoulder blades, Jaskier moving his hand to his mouth, not able to stop the high-pitched sound that had slipped from him.

Geralt rounded on him quickly. Jaskier’s eyes widened in panic as he moved his hand to point at Ciri, ratting her out with absolutely no coercion at all. Geralt looked at her slowly. She smiled, the innocence on her face not quite reaching her eyes, and wiggled her muddy fingers at Geralt. He growled, low in his throat, and Jaskier didn’t even want to _think_ about the reaction his body had to _that_ sound, and stalked towards her slowly.

“Geralt. She’s a child, and princess, please don’t murder her. I don’t want to be implicated and lose my head along side you!” Jaskier called, taking a few hesitant steps forward and then stopping when Geralt turned his glare on him.

“Sorry my dear I can’t help you. You’re on your own.” He held his hands out in front him. Ciri laughed and threw another handful of mud, this one, Geralt could have dodged easily, he was ready this time, but he let it hit him in the leg. Ciri laughed again, backing up, back out into the rain, grabbing more mud. Her laugh getting more frantic as Geralt bent down to grab a handful of his own. He threw it and hit her square in the chest. Her laughter faltered for only a moment, her eyes falling to her ruined dress, Geralt cocked an eyebrow at her, daring her to keep going. She took the dare in stride and tossed mud right at his face.

Jaskier laughed, the sound forcing its way out of his throat at the look on Geralt’s mud covered face. And he knew instantly it was a mistake. They both turned to look at him, hands full of mud, eyes full of mischief.

“No no no no no no!” he tried to back away, his feet slipping on the damp stone beneath him as they both raised their hands. He ran out into the rain, desperate not to be cornered, his feet sinking deep into the ground as he tried to get away from them.

“No no no! Not in the-“ the mud slammed into him.

“Face.” He sighed, bringing his hands up and wiping the mud from his eyes. He shook both hands out, looking up at them both. And his heart melted at what he saw, Ciri was doubled over laughing, so hard there was no longer sound coming from her, her face was bright red. And Geralt. Geralt was standing there, covered in mud, smiling. Smiling at Ciri. And then, after a few moments, smiling at Jaskier. Jaskier smiled back at him. And then he bent down, grabbed a handful of mud himself, and launched it at Geralt’s head.

All hell broke loose after that. Mud flying through the air, slamming into them all, Roach walked further away, hiding behind a tree and shaking her head at their shenanigans. The air filled with laughter. Jaskier would swear he even heard Geralt laugh once and was determined to hear it again. He was chasing Ciri through the deep puddle of mud between them when he felt it. Something moving beneath his shirt.

He stopped. Frozen in the rain. Geralt and Ciri both stopped, in synch, and looked at him. He let the mud fall from his hands and moved them to his chest. He looked up at Geralt.

“Something… is moving.” His hand hovered near his shirt, not touching it. He couldn’t look down, he refused too. He stared at Geralt, his eyes wide and pleading. The Witcher moved to him quickly, his fingers wrapping gently around Jaskier’s wrists and pushing his hands out of the way. He curled a finger into the front of Jaskier’s shirt, pulling the soaked fabric away from his skin. Jaskier kept his eyes glued to Geralt’s face and gulped when he saw the man grimace. Geralt moved his eyes from Jaskier’s chest to his face.

“What is it?” Jaskier whispered, vaguely aware of Ciri coming closer, peering around Geralt cautiously.

“Do you… have strong feelings about leeches?” Geralt asked, his voice forcibly even. Jaskier felt his stomach drop, he fought the urge to gag.

“Get it off. Get it off get it off!” his voice was strained, the urge to scream and run lodged right in throat. Geralt did as he was told, he reached into Jaskier’s shirt quickly. Jaskier felt the pull on his skin and fought the urge to faint. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“It’s gone.” Geralt said, quietly, Jaskier opened his eyes to see Geralt toss the…thing, aside. His skin prickled and he let out a low moan, he tore his shirt off over his head, running back into the stone alcove, he threw his shirt out into the mud and fell over with a squawk as he frantically pulled his boots off, tossing them to the side. He shoved his pants down and kicked his legs to free himself. He scrambled to his feet again, turning in circles, holding his arms out.

“Do you see anymore?” He was shaking, his voice trembling.

“There’s no more Jaskier.” Ciri’s small voice said. Jaskier inhaled sharply when her cold hand touched his arm. He looked down at her.

“Are you alright?” She asked, smiling shyly up at him. He tried to smile down at her and then realized he was standing in only his undergarments in front of her and took a few steps back, trying his best to cover himself, his hand splayed out on his chest like some fair maiden who had just been caught in a compromising position.

“I’m fine. Completely fine I’m… naked, essentially, in front a twelve-year-old princess but ya know, other than that, I’m great. Splendid! How are you?” his words falling out his mouth in a rush, making her smile.

“Well, I know the circumstances had to have been different, but lets not pretend you’ve never been naked in front of a princess before.” She looked at him, leveling him with a smirk. The laugh that burst out of him was awkward, but it lessened the tension. Geralt walked back over from Roach and pressed into Jaskier’s personal space. The rain had stopped now, the few remaining sounds of falling water coming from the dripping trees a few feet away. Geralt’s brow was furrowed as he wrapped a very dry, very warm, blanket around Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier shivered and snuggled into the warmth immediately. Geralt sat him on the ground against the back of the alcove, looking at him for a moment, nodding to himself, seemingly satisfied, and then walked away again.

Jaskier watched him disappear into the trees, pulling his knees up to his chest, and smiled when Ciri sat down next to him, her head falling onto his shoulder. She got up after a few moments, ran out to Roach, patter her head for a moment, then dug around for a blanket of her own. She smiled to herself when she found what she was looking for and ran back to settle in next to him. Geralt came back awhile later, having found enough dry wood for a small fire.

Ciri ate the bread Geralt handed her and then dozed off quickly, tucked inside her blanket, curled up like a cat. Jaskier had stayed pressed against the back wall, not talking, eating in silence and avoiding the concerned glances from Geralt. He also had a sneaking suspicion that Ciri was pretending to sleep to give them space. She was a smart girl, she’d no doubt been feeling the tension between them. Jaskier knew he’d been feeling it, though he’d been trying to push it down as far as possible in the hopes it would maybe just… go away.

Geralt tossed the last end of his stale bread into the small fire and got up from where he’d been sitting. He nudged Jaskier’s leg with his toe, Jaskier looked up at him, confused, to say the least. Geralt reached down, pulled one side of the blanket open and pressed himself into Jaskier’s side, pulling the blanket around them both. He sits. Silently. Pressed side to side with Jaskier. Try as he might, Jaskier can’t stand the silence.

“I’m sorry.” He says, worrying the blanket between his fingers nervously.

“Sorry for what?” Geralt asks, and he has the decency to sound genuinely confused.

“We were having a good time. For once. And I ruined it.” He sighs, dropping his head back against the chilly stone behind him. Geralt shifts next to him, pressing closer, Jaskier holds in the shiver that threatens to run through him at the closeness.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” He says, serious as always.

“I did though. You were laughing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh, and that’s a travesty by the way because the laugh I heard today… it was nice. You should definitely bless the world with that laugh more often. But that’s not the point. The point… the point was… what was the point? Oh! The point was you laughed, and would have probably laughed again and I ruined it. You both got all worried. Because of me.” He bit his lip and looked into his lap. He felt so stupid, it wasn’t a big deal. Shouldn’t have been anyway.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Geralt pressed his elbow softly into his ribs.

“Talk about what?” Jaskier was playing dumb, he knew it, but it was all he had right now.

“Whatever it is that made you react that way. Must have been something bad if it has you sulking this much.” Jaskier looks at him then, and he’s… he’s smiling. Geralt of Rivia, is smiling at him, pressed close to him under a blanket. Jaskier swallows, fights all of his, admittedly terrible, instincts that are telling him to lean over and kiss him, and looks back to his lap, pressing the hem of the blanket between his fingers.

“It’s nothing. Just a bad experience when I was kid. There was a pond. It was full of leeches. I fell in, freaked out, ran home. Unfortunately, the manor was full of guests for some kind of party my parents were throwing. I ran in crying, covered in leeches. Everyone laughed. I was traumatized. It was all very character building I suppose.” He looks back at Geralt, a pained smile on his face.

“Didn’t feel very character building at the time though.” He was almost whispering now, he felt Geralt press ever closer.

“I’m sorry that happened.” The tender sincerity in his voice made Jaskier’s chest ache.

“I’ve never been fond of leeches either. I know logically they can be helpful, but I’d rather not come across them if I can help it.” He smiled at Jaskier, again, and Jaskier could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“So nervous.” Geralt is whispering now, his voice teasing, Jaskier shivers when his breath ghosts over his skin.

“I- I’m not nervous. Who’s nervous?” Jaskier stammered, swallowing hard, and then Geralt’s fingers are touching his arm. Jaskier feels himself flush, fire burning his skin where Geralt’s fingers rest, crawling across his body as Geralt moves his hand up Jaskier’s arm.

“Your heart is beating awfully fast for someone who isn’t nervous.” Geralt pauses, his fingers move under Jaskier’s chin and he pushes Jaskier’s head up gently. Jaskier swallows hard, again, when his eyes meet Geralt’s, his hands are trembling in his lap.

“Right. Yeah. Ya know I’ve been thinking maybe I have anxiety issues. Cuz I’ve noticed that too… ya know… that it’s- it’s been happening… a lot.” Jaskier clears his throat, his voice trailing off.

“…Lately.” He breaths, lamely, not sure why he’s even still talking. He watches Geralt’s lips quirk, the corner of his mouth lifting just so, as he looks at Jaskier and Jaskier looks right back, and sighs. He can’t help it. This whole situation, this moment in time, Geralt willingly curled up under a blanket with him, is just so… _soft_.

“Hmm. Anxiety. Right.” Geralt says, and he’s pressing closer, and Jaskier wants to let this happen, he wants to press forward too and close the barely there distance, but he’s… scared. Geralt is so close, Jaskier watches the Witcher’s eyes begin to fall closed and he feels himself tense up.

“Jaskier.” Geralt breathes, still so close.

“Mhm?” he hums, his throat so tight he can’t manage any actual words.

“You’re overthinking it.” He whispers, his hand moving to Jaskier’s neck, his thumb moving against his cheek as he pulls him close, closing the distance. Jaskier hears himself whimper when their lips touch. A small, needy, sound that Geralt swallows greedily, pulling Jaskier closer still, his hand snaking down around Jaskier’s waist, the warmth of his skin against Jaskier’s making him gasp. Geralt smiles against his lips and presses his tongue into Jaskier’s mouth, Jaskier fists his hands in Geralt’s shirt and holds him close, letting Geralt take whatever he wants from him.

Geralt pulls back, resting his forehead against Jaskier’s. They stay that way, for a long time. Or maybe no time at all. Jaskier can’t tell the different anymore. Not right now. He’s trembling in Geralt’s arms as he holds him close. After what seems like ages and milliseconds simultaneously Geralt lays them both down, pulling Jaskier against his chest, making sure the blanket is covering them both. 

“Overthinking it?” Jaskier breathes, his head resting on Geralt’s chest.

“Hmm. It’s interesting. The only time you seem to overthink anything, is with me.” Geralt said, thoughtful, his fingers moving into Jaskier’s hair.

“And just what does that mean?” Jaskier tires his best to sound offended, but he’s finding it hard.

“You know very well that you don’t think before you act. Ever.” He moves his head to look down at Jaskier as Jaskier looks up at him.

“Except with you.” Jaskier says, his fingers curling in Geralt’s shirt. Geralt smiles softly at him, his fingers moving soothingly against Jaskier’s scalp.

“Except with me.” Geralt agrees. Jaskier looks at him for a moment longer and then rests his head back against Geralt’s chest, wrapping his arm around him and snuggling closer.

“And you just love that don’t you? Being the one thing that makes me think.” Jaskier pokes him in the ribs.

“Not especially. You overthink and your heart gets loud. Very annoying.” Geralt mutters, but presses a kiss into Jaskier’s hair.

“Oh shut up. I know you love it.” Jaskier mumbles, he can feel sleep coming to claim him, his eyelids heavy.

“Hmm.” Geralt hums, his chest rumbling beneath Jaskier’s cheek.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asks, his eyes falling shut and then snapping open, his whole body twitching as he fights off sleep.

“Jaskier.”

“Don’t leave me. Promise you’ll be here when I wake up.” Jaskier whispers the words into Geralt’s chest like a prayer.

“I’m not going anywhere. Go to sleep Julian. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be right here.” Jaskier smiles at the name, sounding so right in Geralt’s mouth. He feels Geralt’s arm wrap around him, holding him close, and lets sleep carry him away to dreams full of rain and laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it guys!!!! <<<333 Nice comments are always appreciated and adored !!!!


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